


Small Victories

by ruenesca



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dark, Life Lessons, M/M, Mentions of dubious consent, One-Sided Attraction, Suggestive Themes, VERY bitter Deadlock, mentions of blackmail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 14:06:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8211227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruenesca/pseuds/ruenesca
Summary: Wing was always so keen on preaching to him and teaching him life lessons, maybe he could impart some of his own wisdom on the entitled know-it-all.





	

Deadlock rolled his optics at the mech sitting at the table a few feet away from him. Wing was overindulging himself again with those ridiculously extravagant gelled candies he loved so much.

If it wasn’t so annoying, it would have almost been kinda…cute with all the little hums of pleasure he made every time he popped one in his mouth. Wing’s optics were half shuttered, that stupid smile on his faceplates as he savored the flavor of the melting treat on his glossa. Wing was the very image of a mech experiencing the highest form of gluttonous ecstasy.

Deadlock scoffed when Wing had graciously tried to offer him some, saying there was plenty to go around. He had never understood nor seen the need for such decadence, but then again, perhaps it was due to the fact that he had never been afforded that luxury.

One could say that circuit boosters had been his one indulgence, but even then they had become less of an indulgence and more a thing of survival, not only for physical need due to possible withdrawal, but to quiet the pain and hopelessness plaguing him, threatening to suffocate him.

The one pleasure Deadlock had in the gutters came with a very large price. The things he had to endure to get those boosters had left him with scars both physical and psychological. There were deep wounds that surfaced from time to time and affected him even now, more than he would ever care to admit.

Wing took all the commodities of this precious “Utopia” for granted, putting little thought into the fact that while he sat there stuffing his faceplates, there were still bots out there suffering, dying, divided by those who fought against a flawed system and those who sought to control others to quell their need for comfort in their own greed and wealth.

Deadlock clenched his fists in anger, optics narrowing at the back of the Knight’s helm as Wing continued to ignore him for the sweet treats. What had Wing done to earn these comforts? What had anyone in this damn city done to be worthy of their paradise? They had all run like cowards, fleeing to the furthest corners of the universe to avoid the war, all so that they could keep living in denial, blissfully ignorant to the suffering of those around them.

Except Wing DID notice the suffering of others, at least he had with the slaves. Wing had tried to free the slaves being held captive by the traders, and while that was all well and good, it also made him a hypocrite. He fought more for the slaves on this planet then the ones who had suffered on his own. 

Wing turned his back on his own people and condemned those trying to make a difference, even if it was through war. It may not be the most desirable solution, but at least they were moving in a direction, making progress. That was more than he could say for anyone living in this underground prison.

The sound of Wing’s voice finally snapped Deadlock out of his thoughts. “Drift, are you alright?” Wing asked, concern present in both his optics and voice.

“M’fine.” Deadlock grumbled, just wanting the other bot to leave him alone and go back to eating. He didn’t feel like getting into some pointless philosophical debate with the other mech right now.

He could feel those gold optics on him, burning a hole into his plating. “It’s just that you seem really…deep in thought. You know you can always talk to me if-.”

“I’m fine!” Deadlock said curtly, looking directly into the questioning golden optics, silently letting the other mech know that the subject was closed for discussion.

There was reluctance in his field, but the jet must have gotten the hint because he ended up clearing his intake before promptly changing topics. “Stonecloud really does make the best candies! I just wish they weren’t so messy.” Wing said with slightly faked annoyance and good humor as he examined the sticky residue caked on his servos.

Deadlock just shrugged. He gave a quick glance at the rest of the untouched gels Wing hadn’t gotten to as his tanks gave a very loud and unhappy rumble.

Deadlock heard Wing let out an obnoxious giggle as he made his way over to him. “Are you sure you don’t want any Drift? They’re delicious, I promise !” the overly cheerful jet said as he danced one right in front of Deadlock’s faceplate, making the Decepticon have to fight the urge to punch the other bot in his smiling faceplates.

“No. I don’t.” Deadlock said in a flat tone as he somehow managed to get a hold on the anger welling inside of him.

The smile fell from those pretty lip plates as the knight gave a shrug and popped the threat into his mouth, as if to say, ‘Suit yourself.’ before he plopped on the couch next to the disgruntled Decepticon.

Deadlock eyed the jet as he fished around in his subspace for a moment to pull out a cleaning rag to rid his servos of the mess the gelled candies had left behind. Deadlock reached out to grab the wrist before the cloth could reach it’s destination. 

‘Always letting a good thing go to waste.’ Deadlock thought as he shook him helm. Wing was always so keen on preaching to him and teaching him life lessons, maybe he could impart some of his own wisdom on the entitled know-it-all.

Wing looked shocked as he first looked at the hand wrapped around wrist, then at Deadlock, “Drift, what-?”

The sentence was cut off as Deadlock held one of Wing’s servos up, examining the globs of energon clinging to slender black digits. “So wasteful, all of you, ungrateful.” Deadlock murmured reproachfully as he brought the servo up to his mouth, tracing the tips of each finger, smearing some of the stickiness on his lips which he instinctively licked.

Deadlock fought back a moan at the exquisiteness of the residual energon. The complex sweetness rolled over his glossa in a way that left it tingling like no other energon had. Even as hardened with bitterness as he was, he couldn’t deny the clever craftsmanship that had been involved in creating such a delectable treat.

Wing had looked like he wanted to say something, but shivered instead at the attention he was receiving.

Deadlock made sure to hold the white Knight’s gaze as he ran his glossa over the length of Wing’s middle digit and sucked on the tip to get at the glob of energon that was still stuck to it. He fought to keep the amusement he felt out of his field and expression as Wing just gaped at him, transfixed on the treatment his finger was receiving.

The Decepticon continued to lick and trace his lip plates along each of Wing’s sensitive servos, sometimes popping them briefly into his mouth and sucking on them to further torture the Knight who had begun to pant lightly with optics half shuttered at his ministrations, heavy arousal bleeding from his field. Now was Deadlock’s time to strike.

“Even before the energon crisis, living in the gutters and trying to get food was a daily struggle. I would go long periods of time without any energon. I was hungry, starving, and desperate to do anything to stop the horrible pain in my tanks.” Deadlock paused momentarily to lick at another glob caked onto the jet’s thumb before resuming. Those golden optics focused on his, rapt at attention and filled with sympathy. “I remember the first time I tried to steal energon. I got caught breaking and entering by an enforcer, a real sadistic fragger. He told me he was going enjoy putting me away, but almost felt bad because ‘a pretty thing like me isn’t going to last long in a place like that’. I begged him not to lock me up. I even got down on my knees. He just loooved that.“

“Drift, you don’t have to -” Wing said as he tried to pull his hand back, only to be yanked back against the Decepticon with a small gasp.

Deadlock continued despite Wing’s protests and obvious discomfort. “So, him being the generous bot he was, decided to strike me a deal, told me he’d forget the whole thing if I did him this one favor. He pulled me behind some deserted building, sat on the stairs and got a cube of high grade from his sub space, the real good quality stuff. My optics were glued to it the entire time, barely even heard what he was saying. He asked me if I was hungry just before he opened his spike panel and tipped the energon all over his lap, smirking the entire time.” 

“Drift-“ Wing tried to interrupt again, but this time with a hint of desperation as misery projected from his field to wash over the Decepticon, only to be ignored yet again.

“I wasn’t even angry, because all I could think at the time was ‘that may be the only fuel I get for the next week, so I better get every-” a long lick to Wing’s palm “last-” a suckle to the base of a thumb this time “-drop.’” Deadlock purred just before he took Wing’s index and middle servos into his mouth, all the way down to the knuckles, suckling at the digits as he swirled his glossa over them, doing a trick that he had learned in the gutters that made the jet shutter. Deadlock bobbed his helm over the few times over, sliding his wet mouth over those servos as he locked optics with the jet to give him the full effect, leaving nothing to the stretch of imagination as to what happened that day with the Enforcer and so with many others out of sheer necessity for his survival.

Wing looked absolutely horrified when the story finally ended, optic fluid running down silver cheeks as he shook his helm from side to side as if trying to will the words away, “Drift, I’m so sorry. That’s-“  


The white knight was again interrupted as Deadlock pushed away, letting go of the Knight’s servos as Wing tried to pull him into an embrace. He wanted none of the false comforts Wing had to offer him. They were full of lies, just like him, like Dai Atlas and the Circle, just like the Senate had been.

Deadlock sneered in disgust at the sympathy rolling off the other mech, as if he were something to be pitied. “I didn’t tell you that story to gain your sympathy. I told you that story so that the next time you decide to gorge yourself with the finer luxuries this city has to offer, that you not forget that there are still bots out there suffering while all of you people choose to ignore their pain so you can keep living in your delusions, free of guilt. You say our war damned Cybertron? It’s the inaction and indifference of bots like you that have helped seal the fates of the less fortunate. Everything comes with a price, your movement to a better life through cowardice is no different.”

Deadlock moved close to Wing again, body almost touching his, looking straight into those optics as he spoke, “The problem with you Wing is that you only care when it’s convenient, or when it helps to soothe your conscience. You’re a hypocrite Wing, and I HATE hypocrites”. Deadlock spat with as much venom as he could muster in Wing’s devastated faceplates just before turning to walk away, finding dark satisfaction in the sounds of a mech’s heavy sobbing as he left. 

Deadlock headed towards his room since It was the only place he could go. He was a prisoner after all, not even afforded the same rights to freedom as the other bots in this city. ‘Some Utopia.’ Deadlock thought as he laid on the berth and temporarily disabled his audials to keep from having to listen to Wing’s wailing from the other room.

———————————————

A few days later, Deadlock noticed a distinct lack of energon confections around the hab suite. Even the ones that had been stashed away in Wing’s quarters were gone. Deadlock smirked, 'Progress was progress as they say.' he thought as he silently thanked the allspark for small victories.


End file.
